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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352753">Nano 30 Day Challenge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenders1ckn3ss/pseuds/Slenders1ckn3ss'>Slenders1ckn3ss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fazbear's Frights, Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(in future chapters), Child Death, Child Murder, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Killer Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Murder, Random &amp; Short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:02:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenders1ckn3ss/pseuds/Slenders1ckn3ss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short, Fazbear's Frights-style stories that I'm doing for NaNo.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Are you ready for hug time with Freddy?" Freddy's bouncy, boisterous voice sounded out. The kids knew what that meant. They crowded around the stage, hopping up with arms outstretched, as if hoping the eight-foot bear swiveling on his pedestal would pluck them up and grab them in a bearhug. Instead. the curtain closed around him, taking a moment before it reopened. Freddy was off of the pedestal, now able to move and walk around. His first act was to walk to the edge of the stage, using the handrail to let himself down. The costume jostled as he moved, betraying the suit and the poor employee within it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, 'poor' didn't describe it well. In fact, Freddy's suit held a woman, one of the managers at Freddy's, and this was her favorite part of the job. She set paws on the party room carpet and was immediately surrounded by children, whom she hugged, high-fived, and patted. They parted after their hugs, allowing 'Freddy' to walk to a small patch of carpet in front of the stage. As he arrived there, upbeat music started, and Freddy began to dance along with the children. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This lasted for about five minutes. Then, rather exhausted, Freddy stopped, gave slightly warmer hugs to all the kids, and climbed up the stairs to disappear behind the stage again. When the curtains opened, Freddy once more stood, swiveling on his pedestal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a nice trick, Neil thought, watching the whole thing skeptically from a booth while he munched on pizza. A cute little show for dumb little babies. It looked impressive, if you liked that kind of thing. But he knew how that all worked - how the suit came apart and the endoskeleton disappeared under the stage and how the woman dressed up and came out and danced. After all, that woman was his mom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She came out from backstage after a few moments, red-faced and sweaty and smiling. She slid into the booth across from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you get a hug from Freddy?" she asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why? Weren't you able to see me?" Neil asked bitterly. Her smile dropped a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, honey, come on. It wouldn't hurt you to play along and have fun with the other kids." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not like the other kids," he said defensively, looking up at her with something close to a glare. "I'm smart." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are smart. You're my smart little boy," she said, nodding. "But there's nothing wrong playing pretend, too." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment of silence, Neil sighed and looked away. She sighed, too. "Well, at least you're not spoiling it for everyone else. Thank you for that." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil grunted in reply and discarded his crust on the plate. He slid out of the booth and held out his hand. "Can I get some tokens?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure! I can give you some Faz-coins-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tokens," he corrected. "That's what everyone else calls them." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Baby, if you want anything from the prize corner-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not a baby; I'm nine," he said, and flexed his fingers. "I'm gonna play Jurassic Crisis 4" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowned but dug into her pockets, fishing out the coppery coins with Freddy's face on them. Neil took them and dashed off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil was starting to hate Freddy's. Every day he came here, whether it was after school or on a day off. Now it was summer, and he was spending most of his time here instead of at home with his games and his friends and his computer. His mom didn't trust him enough yet to be at home by himself. Next year, maybe. So in the meantime he had to stay at this baby place and watch the babies play baby games and win baby prizes and do baby dances with stupid Freddy. And he had to watch and pretend he didn't care while all those strangers got hugs from his mom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And meanwhile she was always so busy here. Always running around and serving people, taking their money, giving them gross pizza, and giving them cheap prizes. She was good at it, really, but it wasn't fair that the job took all of her time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil slid a coin into the slot of Jurassic Crisis 4 and grabbed the plastic light gun that was attached to the rig. As he blasted cyborg time-traveling dinosaurs, he thought about the way things used to be, when he actually liked Freddy's. When his mom didn't work here. He'd actually really liked Freddy's, and had brought home a variety of posters, plushies, hats, shirts, and other items with Freddy and gang plastered all over them. He'd even bought the video game when it came out, and he'd played it on his portable console wherever he went. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really, it was probably his fault that his mom worked here now, or at least Neil thought so. He'd liked Freddy's so much that she thought he'd like it if she worked there. Never mind that it was pretty much the highest-paying position in town for his mom's skillset. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hissed out a curse word as he missed a dino and took a hit. A kid next to him gasped and ran to tell her mom, but he didn’t care. Stupid little kids. Another hit and he died, so he slammed the gun back into the holster and stomped off before the kid could drag her mom over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He played a few more games: skeeball, basketball shooter, whack-a-Foxy. He left the tickets he’d won. He didn’t want them or care about the stuff in the prize corner. Let the babies have them, just like they got all of Freddy’s hugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, eventually, his mom’s shift ended. The second manager came in, and it was time to go home. He was in the car first, plugging in his nearly-dead phone so he could at least play something that wasn’t gambling for kids. His mom was silent on the way home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanna stay home by myself,” Neil said as they pulled into the driveway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neil, I don’t want to have this conversation tonight,” she said, sighing as she put the car into park. “There’s no new ways I can say ‘next year’ to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what’s the difference between next year and now!?” Neil demanded. Not waiting for an answer, he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and stomping to the house, using his own key to unlock the door. Leaving the door open, he continued to stomp up to his room and slammed that door as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil’s mom sighed again and headed inside, moving to the kitchen to microwave their dinner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited, at least, until after Neil finished eating, when he brought his plate to the sink to tell him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go back to Freddy’s tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil froze, glaring at her, and dropped his plate with a clatter. “Well. Have fun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know you have to come with me. You’re not going to be by yourself, especially at night.” She sounded tired. Exhausted, really. Maybe Neil could use that to his advantage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’d be a lot less work leaving me here,” he said. “I’ll go to bed early. I’ll keep the door locked. I’ll be fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry, honey. Next year will be different, but I can’t leave you alone. You have to come with.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, there won’t even be anything to do!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t have to stay long. You can bring your phone or even play on mine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neil!” He’d gone too far. Her voice was a snap, the fatigue peeling back the layers of her maternal patience. Now her brows crossed, hands at her hips. “No more arguing! Get your shoes on and meet me in the car!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now it was her turn to slam the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neil was silent on the way back to Freddy’s. He hated it, and he hated most that he couldn’t say anything. He didn’t want to make his mom even angrier. Instead, he played quietly on his phone until they got there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I at least stay in the car?” he asked timidly. His mom’s glare told him that he could not. He groaned softly and followed her in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Freddy’s was different at night. Neil had been here at night before, and he always hated it. The curtain covered the stage, so the three animatronics on it were hidden from view. Neil always wondered if they were really back there or not. The arcade games were all powered off and silent, except a single one that, for whatever reason, couldn’t be turned off. It was the type of strength game you’d see at a carnival or fair, where kids would slam a button with a hammer and would ring a bell depending on how hard they struck. The yellow lights danced all around it, chasing each other in the darkness. Neil stared at it while his mom moved to darker parts of the pizzeria, switching on the barest of lights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go into the offices or the kitchen,” she ordered. “And you know better than to get on the stage. But you can sit by the buffet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned on the lights above the buffet, the ones used to keep the food warm. They gave off a dim red light, coupled with a small fan that made a grinding noise. Then she disappeared into the office to do whatever she needed to do at this hour. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil instantly felt a weird, crawling sensation along his shoulders. He shrugged it off and shook his head, peeking over his shoulder to make sure nothing was there before sliding into a booth within the light of the buffet’s heat lamp. It put him in view of the stage as well, though he dedicated himself more to the Match 3 on his phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only when the stage curtain fluttered that Neil looked up. He froze, eyes glued for any other sign of movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Probably just a fan backstage. Probably. Neil groaned and looked back at his phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flourish of music box notes lit up the silence, starling Neil and making him drop his phone entirely. He looked up at the stage. Now a flashing blue light was coming from behind it, the lights flickering in time to the rhythm of the music. Neil wasn’t sure what the music was called, but he did know that Freddy played that music at the end of the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S-stupid thing’s glitching,” Neil said aloud. That was all it was. Just a glitch. Probably the reason his mom was up here - to fix these stupid robots that seemed to break every two weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music abruptly cut off with a sound of powering down, dragging the music box’s notes with it deeper and lower into silence. But the blue light was still on, flashing intermittently without rhythm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil just stared at the stage now, goosebumps crawling on his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you re-ready for Freddy to co-come play?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The bear’s booming voice made Neil jump. It sounded five times as loud as usual, leaving echoes through the silent arcade. The curtain pulled back slightly, showing as much as Freddy’s face before grinding to a halt. The blue glow was coming from Freddy’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil had been a fan of Freddy’s for years. He’d been here at night for sleepovers and for his mom’s late-night work schedule. Freddy’s eyes had never glowed. As far as Neil knew, they weren’t supposed to glow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Freddy’s head jerked, tilting to the side, and his eyes flicked in Neil’s direction. “Do you want a hug?” he asked in his usual friendly, bouncy tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil felt a little sting through his fear. Was the bear taunting him now? No, that was stupid - the dumb glitchy bear was just going through his dumb glitchy lines. Neil looked down at his phone and- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. He kind of did want a hug. He remembered those moments when his mom first started working here, when he wasn’t afraid to participate in the silly, baby, song-and-dance-along. He’d always get those hugs from his mom, even when she didn’t know which kid he was. The suit she wore was double-padded, super soft, and the hugs always pressed him into Freddy’s fur in the most comforting way. It was like being hugged by his mom and his best friend all at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted a hug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil looked up towards the hallway leading toward the office. He couldn’t interrupt his mom, even for something as small as a hug. But it looked like only Freddy’s voice was glitching. That, and his weird eyes. The suit was still the same, and Freddy’s arms and hands weren’t moving. Freddy might not be able to hug him, but maybe he could go hug Freddy… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he knew it, Neil was climbing up the stairs, gripping the handrail tightly. His eyes were focused on Freddy, making sure the bear didn’t move. The bear’s blue eyes were still lit up, still flashing, but not even Freddy’s head had moved. Neil moved closer, almost tiptoeing across the stage. The curtain still hid Bonnie and Chica, Freddy’s bunny and chicken friends, but honestly, Neil didn’t even think about them right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached out, fingers tentatively brushing the fur on Freddy’s belly. It was just as soft as he remembered. Pressing the fabric, he found the suit as springy and pillowy as before, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said. It felt ridiculous now. But he really wanted a hug. He wanted to hug his mom and his best friend at the same time. He wanted everything to be back like it was before, when he and his mom </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>best friends. Before she had to work all the time. Before he had to be here all the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil’s arms wrapped around Freddy’s plush belly, and he sank his head against Freddy’s chest and closed his eyes. The suit was colder than when his mom wore it. It was close, but not the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom,” he said with a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, Freddy’s body gave a jolt. His arms slammed around Neil, hard enough to knock the air out of him. Then Neil felt himself lifted in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop!” he cried out, trying to struggle free. Freddy’s grip only grew stronger. Neil gasped for breath, feeling his bones pop under the animatronic’s ridiculous strength. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t real, couldn’t be real. These things were just weak robots, they couldn’t-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil felt prickles at his eyes. A dark halo around his vision made shadows dance and jump. Tears started to stream down his cheeks - he couldn’t get a breath in! He gave one last, desperate attempt to get free before Freddy cinched his arms tight, like a vice. Neil felt something crack, felt something cold down his back- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then felt nothing else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That’s too bad. Most people </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>my hugs," Freddy said, and released the now-lifeless boy from his arms. Neil crumpled into a pile at the bear’s feet. Freddy tilted his head, looking at the body as if confused for a moment, and then straightened up into his original position. The blue lights of his eyes flashed twice, then went out. The entire stage area fell with an eerie, dark, and cold silence. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 2: Calendar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Countdown to a bad birthday</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kyle was going to turn eight in five days, and honestly he wasn’t sure he was going to make it that far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nightmares had been increasing. They were the same type of nightmares that happened before The Crash, when he lost his mom, and before The Sickness, when he lost Grandpa Eddie. They weren’t the usual kind of nightmares. They felt real, with real things in them, not ridiculous nightmare things like monsters or ghosts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw a man in the nightmares. A man with a strange body and a knife. The man was always in a room, the only thing moving but never alone, and surrounded by blood and something Kyle thought were dead bodies. He didn’t know for real. He’d only seen Grandpa Eddie’s body at the funeral. Mom’s casket was closed. But he had a feeling the things in the dream were what dead bodies looked like, bloated and purple and green and smelling horrible and sweet and nasty at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the man would laugh when he realized Kyle was watching him. He would laugh and laugh until Kyle woke up, drenched in sweat and whimpering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle’s dad had been trying his best to take care of the two of them after Kyle’s mom died. He worked hard and was gone, mostly when Kyle was at school, and he made sure that the two of them always had something fun to do together. He was a kind man, soft and patient, but even Kyle could see the sadness in him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many nights, Kyle would get up to pee or get a drink and would hear his dad sobbing gently from his bedroom. And Kyle didn’t know what do about it, so he’d force himself to take care of his own business and go back to bed. Generally Dad was silent by the time Kyle returned to bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It kind of made Kyle wish he had a stepmom, so Dad wouldn’t be so lonely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t as though Kyle could really do anything about that, so he just went on as usual. He didn’t have too much of a choice. Just like with his birthday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In five days, Kyle would go to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and have his birthday. He was a little scared of Freddy’s - the large robot animals scared him. The last time he’d been there, Foxy had popped out of his curtain at Pirate’s Cove, jumping right toward him. Foxy wasn’t even supposed to be on at that time. Kyle remembered crying afterwards, remembered being carried up by his mom and hugged by both his parents until everything was okay. But Mom wasn’t here, and if it happened again… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad,” Kyle said at dinner, after picking at his penne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Dad looked up, his eyes full of warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can… can I have my birthday somewhere else?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad’s smile dropped a little into something more unsure. He put his fork down. “I wish we could go back to Fun Island,” he said, referencing the nearby amusement park they’d visited last year. “But they gave me the coupons at work, and money’s a little tight right now. I’m afraid it’s our only choice. I’m sorry - I know you only turn eight once. I’ll try to make it up to you in the summer, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle understood. He didn’t like it, but he understood. He nodded and continued to poke at his pasta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be like last time,” Dad assured. “We’re not going in that room. It’ll just be in the arcade. We can play a few games, spend our coins, and then go to Pie Palace for your favorite slice of cake.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Kyle said, trying to sound hopeful. The two of them continued to eat in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, the man laughed at Kyle. Blood dripped down his knife, down his clothes, down his face. He looked like a shadow, solid black, with glowing white eyes. His body was weird. Lumpy, somehow, but not like he was fat. Like he was wearing very big clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle woke up whimpering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In four days, Kyle would go to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and have his birthday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so jealous,” Audrie said before class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can come if you want,” Kyle said, shrugging. “It’s not like a huge birthday party. It’s just going there and playing some games.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna go in the Money Plunder?” she asked, referring to the wind tunnel tube filled with tickets, prizes, and cash. Most birthday kids went into it, grabbing as many slips of paper as they could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he shrugged again. Did parents have to pay for something like that? Maybe Dad had a coupon. “I don’t really know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t wanna, I want your turn,” she said. “I really want that Yarg Foxy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle looked stung, then disgusted. “Ugh. You can have it. I don’t like Foxy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, who’s your favorite, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle paused. Did he even know any of their names, besides Foxy and Freddy? He didn’t really… care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, the teacher came in at that moment, and class began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Kyle heard the man in another room. His crazed laughter had just began. But Kyle was in the room with Foxy, in Pirate’s Cove. The curtain was open, and Foxy was staring down at him. Not moving, not slashing, just… staring. And all Kyle could do was stare back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the laughter stopped. Foxy’s eyes moved above Kyle, looking at something behind him- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle woke up sweating, with the feeling he was being watched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In three days, Kyle would go to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and have his birthday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, kiddo?” Dad tilted his head at Kyle, who, for the third night in a row, wasn’t eating much of his dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not hungry,” he murmured, rolling a slice of sausage around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you not feeling well? You sick?” The back of Dad’s hand pressed against Kyle’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...nightmares,” Kyle said after hesitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Dad sat back in his chair, frowning. “The bad ones?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle nodded, not looking up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing will happen,” Dad said. “I’ll be right there beside you. Nothing will hurt you with me around.” He tried a smile. “You trust me, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle looked up. He tried a smile, too. Neither of them were too convincing. “I trust you,” he said. That, at least, was genuine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat what you can,” Dad said. “Get some ice cream if your tummy still hurts. Then we can watch a movie, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we watch Blood Zombies 3?” Kyle’s cheek pulled up a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad laughed. “Come on. We wanna </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>the nightmares, not encourage them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, there were zombies. But not zombies like in Blood Zombies 3. Instead, they were children, dead, bloody, but standing on their own two feet. Ten of them, they all faced the same direction, looking at the back wall of the room. Kyle walked in the middle of them, somehow unafraid. They didn’t want him. They weren’t like movie zombies. Instead they stared, eyes sometimes empty, mouths agape and jaws slack, at the back wall of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room itself was bare - bare walls, no furniture, just a door at Kyle’s back. Kyle stared at the wall, too, trying to see what all the other kids saw. He just saw a wall, at least for a moment. Then a door seemed to cut itself out of the wall. It opened, or, rather, it disappeared. The man was suddenly in the doorway, like a light when the switch turned on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One by one, the zombie kids started to scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle woke in his dad’s arms. His dad was rocking him, saying everything was okay. He must’ve been screaming, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In two days, Kyle would go to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and have his birthday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While walking home from school, he almost got hit by a car. The crosswalk light was on, the counter was counting down, and he, Audrie, and a few other kids were making their way across the street. The driver slammed on his brakes, shrieking to a halt about half a foot away from Kyle’s thigh. Kyle, too stunned to be scared, looked up as the driver leaned on the horn, honking angrily at the kids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the driver’s seat, he saw the man from his nightmares. All black, glowing eyes, lumpy body. He blinked and looked again, realizing it was a woman, blonde, face red with anger and impatience. Audrie grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way, and the woman sped on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he told Dad, Dad said he’d call the school. Maybe they could get a crossing guard out there. Kyle didn’t think that would help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes people don’t care about others’ lives,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they tell you that in school?” Dad asked, concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a child. Everyone should be concerned about your life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes people like to hurt kids.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only bad people,” his dad assured. “And I’ll protect you from them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle trusted his dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, someone had their hands on Kyle’s arms, pinning them to his sides as though trapping him. It reminded him of Grandpa Eddie’s funeral, when he was staring too long at the body in the casket and someone grabbed him like that to move him out of the way. He wasn’t staring. He just didn’t recognize the person in the casket. It didn’t look like Grandpa Eddie. It didn’t look like any kind of human he’d ever seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle started to squirm as the person’s grip tightened. He was being led, pushed forward, and was walking against his will. The person pushed him into that empty room, straight through the door and towards the wall in the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle winced as he expected to hit the wall. Instead, he went through it. Inside the wall was all black. He couldn’t even see the floor. It was like that time his video game glitched and he fell out of the map. Unmoored, unbound by the rules of the game and of life, in an area no one was ever supposed to be in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt something cold against his neck. Cold and sharp. And then he felt something warm- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle woke up choking, coughing. He grabbed his own neck and checked for injury. He found nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tomorrow, Kyle would go to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and have his birthday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Friday at school. The teachers were in a lull, so there wasn’t much work to do. They ‘celebrated’ Kyle’s birthday with a short movie and some prepackaged cupcakes and brownies before class ended. Halfway through the movie, Audrie got one of her nosebleeds and had to leave early. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you at Freddy’s tomorrow,” she said, plugging her nose, before walking with her mom out the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re having a party at Freddy’s?” Evidently Skylar hadn’t heard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a party,” Kyle corrected. “Just my dad and me playing some arcade games. And Audrie too, I guess. You can come if you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! I wanna see Bonnie. He’s super cool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle wasn’t really sure which one Bonnie was, but he just nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kinda present do you want?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, Kyle hadn’t thought about presents. He hadn’t been expecting them. Dad just bought him stuff that he wanted, as long as they could afford it. After Mom died, it had been more about ‘living in the moment’ rather than waiting for a special day. A day that might not come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t hafta bring anything,” Kyle said. “It’ll just be, like, hanging out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet! Okay!” Skylar shoved the rest of his rainbow-chip brownie in his mouth and kicked his feet under his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Kyle was alone in the empty room. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the door. There was a large white box between his legs, wrapped in a red ribbon. A present, and a big fancy one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled the top off of the box. Whatever was in it, his mind wouldn’t let him see it. It was censored, like movies on TV where there was too much gore or naked people. Just a blurry blob, though he could see pale flesh, red, and purple colors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever was in the box, he knew it was bad. He pushed it away with a shocked cry and stood up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man was in front of him, dark and lumpy. He rubbed his hands together and cackled. He didn’t say anything, but Kyle knew he was asking. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you like my gift? Did you like it, birthday boy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle woke up clawing at his covers, pushing them away and pulling them close all at the same time. As he realized he was awake, he calmed down, only to hear the faint sobs coming from his dad’s room. Tears started to come to his own eyes. He pulled the covers over his head and pretended, for his dad’s sake, that he didn’t hear anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle’s birthday was today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At noon, they headed out towards Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. The place was already busy, as it was Saturday. Kyle and his dad got their hands stamped with unique codes at the door - a precautionary measure by the staff - and went inside. Dad exchanged his coupons and some money for a big bucket of tokens and one slip of paper, which he handed to Kyle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep hold of that.” It was a ticket for the Money Plunder. Kyle hoped he didn’t get the Yarg Foxy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, Kyle met up with Audrie by the hoop shoot. Skylar joined them afterwards; he brought a small wrapped present with him. It was a toy car that turned into a robot; not the big name-brand one, but it was kind of cool and Kyle thanked him for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day was going… fine. Kyle started to wonder if his nightmares were just nightmares, and not predicting anything bad. An hour passed and he was about out of tokens, so he gave the rest of the bucket to Audrie and looked for Dad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle didn’t see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked around the arcade and the main stage area, checking every table and booth. Dad wasn’t here. Kyle went to the prize corner and asked the employee there. She didn’t remember what Dad looked like. Kyle suddenly realized there were a lot of dads there. But his dad wasn’t among them, no matter how hard he looked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He asked the employee at the door. No one with the same hand stamp had left. Dad must have been here. Maybe the bathroom, the employee suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the way to the bathroom, Kyle heard it. Laughter. Familiar laughter. He felt his body go cold, and, despite everything in him telling him not to, he followed the sound. It was coming from Pirate’s Cove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was slightly open. Kyle peeked in. From this angle he saw Foxy peeking out from behind his curtain. The animatronic was twitching slightly, head and eyes moving towards the center of the room. There came a weird, cracking sound, and Kyle opened the door further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man was in the middle of the room. He wore the costume of a yellow animal, without the head and hands, and the plump, plush body sagged around him, making him appear lumpy. A projector screen played behind him, making the light reflect off of the wall. It made the man look like a shadow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man had his hands around something and looked intense, despite the wide grin on his face. Kyle edged further into the room and gasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Dad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his knees, clawing desperately at the man’s arms, Dad gasped and coughed for breath. In the mere seconds that Kyle saw, before the boy could do anything, his dad suddenly went limp. The man in the suit pushed Dad to the side and pulled out a knife. Kyle saw that it was covered in blood already. Only then did he notice that there were little bodies all over the floor of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad must’ve seen it. He must’ve tried to stop the man. And he… he… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle let out a cry, revealing himself. The man looked up, the crazed grin still on his face, and he headed swiftly to the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle found himself unable to move as the man reached out to grab him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, birthday boy…” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 3: Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chica follows a mystery trail. (TW implied child death)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She didn’t know why she woke up outside. Her programming was beeping at her to get back in. After all, it was raining. Misting, really, but she didn’t know the difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was, after all, just a robot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica stood up, noticing the dumpster to her left and the trash bin to her right. Was she out here eating pizza again? Wouldn’t be the first time. The manager would be so mad at her. But she loved pizza soooo much! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She certainly felt full of pizza, so that’s what she must’ve been doing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her programming informed her that Mr. Cupcake was missing, and a glance at her left hand verified this. He was probably inside, but she had to find him, too. It was in her code for both of them to stay together. So she headed for the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The back door was locked. That was odd. Generally when she was outside eating trash pizza, she at least left the back door open. Then again, it was raining. Maybe someone closed it and didn’t know she was out here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she had to go into the vents. She walked past the door and past the large metal box that hummed and purred as it heated and/or air conditioned the whole building. Just past the AC unit was a large intake vent, about six feet from the ground. Fortunately, Chica was seven foot and six inches, and could easily take off the vent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, crawling inside was another matter. Especially when she was so full of pizza. The vents could barely hold her weight as it was. They always creaked and groaned and protested when she had to use them to get back in. But it was still kind of fun, doing that, pretending (as much as a robot could pretend) that she was some kind of spy in a fun movie, sneaking up on the bad guys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now she was over one of the party rooms. She looked down, still pretending she was spying on a top-secret meeting, but sadly there was no one in the room. Not even the new guard. He was kind of a party pooper, though - he always told the animatronics to go get on stage, even at night when they didn’t have to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica continued on, passing another party room until she reached the kitchen. Hopefully Mr. Cupcake was in there. She opened the latch on the vent and carefully climbed out, though unfortunately she scratched her paint a bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oops. Manager wasn’t going to like that! Chica silently giggled and stood up, wobbling a bit. She was still full of pizza, and it was throwing off her balance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So weird that she didn’t even remember eating that much of it. She would’ve loved to know what kinds of pizza she had! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She caught her footing and looked around, eventually finding Mr. Cupcake behind the stove. He hopped up on her hand and seemed to be shivering a little, his gears and servos whirring unpleasantly. She patted his head to calm him, though it worried her that he was upset. Mr. Cupcake never got scared. What had happened? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica turned around and got her first clue. There was something dark on the floor in the kitchen. She looked at it in the dim light. It looked like fruit punch or tomato sauce or… or…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica tapped her lower beak. No, not blood. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>must </span>
  </em>
  <span>be fruit punch. It was too liquid-y to be tomato sauce and there wasn’t anyone here that had blood, except the new guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Maybe she should check on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica made her way to the office only to get the door slammed in her face. She peeked through the window to see the guard, knees curled to his chest and his finger firmly on the door button. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“G-GO AWAY!” he yelped in fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he was still alive. Chica shrugged and walked away, back towards the kitchen. The trail of punch went out of the kitchen and down the hall. Curious, she started to follow it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Down the hall and past a few party rooms and into the arcade. She trailed it around some arcade cabinets and games with blinky lights. How much punch did this person have? At least it wasn’t pee, thankfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trail stopped in one of the party rooms by Pirate’s Cove. Foxy wasn’t behind his curtain, either, and Chica hadn’t seen him on the way. In fact, she hadn’t seen Bonnie or Freddy, either. That was kind of weird. Everything was weird tonight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She started to investigate the party room. Nothing was under the tables or behind the decorations. But when she turned to leave, she found the punch again, another trail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fresh trail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She followed this one back through the main stage and into the arcade. The punch was shiny, very fresh, and seemed to cover the old trail. Did someone follow her? Did they pass right  behind her? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden feeling of guilt washed over her, though she wasn’t really sure why. It wasn’t something that was in her code. Another feeling she could only describe as ‘bad’. Ominous, maybe, if she’d known what that meant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt… </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back at the main stage, she realized it was empty. No one seemed to be anywhere. She wandered a bit, confused and uncertain, until she found another trail. This one led to the back door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hesitantly, she opened the back door. The mist hit her and brought a chill with it. She made sure the door was unlocked, just in case, and went a bit down the alleyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood. It was blood this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Freddy, Foxy, and Bonnie were also out there, all huddled together, with Freddy in the middle. Blood seeped from their joints, from their stomachs and mouths, smeared all over their hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chica looked down at herself. She saw the blood, too. She saw it dripping down her body onto the wet pavement. She felt guilty. She felt horrible. She felt heavy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew she was not full of pizza. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah oops i made myself sad with this one</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 4: Dessert</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Remember to follow Birthday Party Etiquette</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not all the stories are sad! Yay!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lucas looked at the big pile of cupcakes for what had to be the fifth time in the last half-hour. He couldn’t help it - they were so big and fluffy and pink! All of them - a pyramid of 25 or so, carefully stacked on a special display just for John’s party - were made to look like Chica’s cupcake come to life, with a pair of simple candy eyes, a candle made of chocolate, and a pair of chicle buck teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas coveted them. He wanted one so badly, and he didn’t want to wait until John blew out his candles. Maybe… maybe if no one was watching… he could just take one? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around. This party area was secluded. There was only one door, not many hiding spots aside from under the table, where he’d be seen instantly, and some wall decorations that he wouldn’t be able to slip behind. Most of the kids were playing some sort of hand-slapping game on one side of the room while the others were sitting in a circle chatting and exchanging some sort of trading card. Lucas was by himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The parents, however. They sat at the table where his treasure lay, talking and sipping bland fruit punch as they kept an eye on the kids.  He might be able to sneak around them, but if they saw a cupcake missing, they’d know it was him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom sat closest to the cupcake pyramid. He went up to her, leaned on her shoulder in a half-hug, and she tilted her head to touch his in an affectionate manner. “Don’t you wanna go play with the other kids?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought a moment. If he asked for a cupcake, she’d say no, and if he mentioned them, she’d know he was thinking of taking them. So instead he said, “Mama, I wanna go play the games.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After cake and presents,” she said with a finality. He gave a little groan, but, at the same time, reached out to the cupcake pyramid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She noticed and shifted as he was still leaning on her. His hand dropped away and she chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And no cake until John’s done playing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But they’re so pretty!” Lucas whined. “Just one, Mama, please? I won’t eat another one!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Lucas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I at least have one of the candles?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lucas.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas huffed and sulked a bit, standing up from his lean. He knew it wasn’t any good, but he crossed his arms anyway. But he did step away from the pyramid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to chat, either. So instead he sulked against the wall, staring at the decorations of Freddy and Bonnie and Chica celebrating various parties. Freddy was carrying a big cake, Bonnie had party hats on both his bunny ears while he carried a pile of presents, and Chica had a party horn. In her hand was Mr. Cupcake, who was blowing his own party horn so hard his little cheeks were red instead of pink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas decided he liked Chica the best. She liked pizza and cupcakes, and so did he. He felt like they’d be really good friends, if that was possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked again at the pile of cupcakes and stood up with a jolt. One of them was missing! There was an empty round spot where it would’ve gone, with only a little smear of pink icing to show that anything had been there at all! Immediately Lucas went back to the pile and started to investigate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucas!” his mom said sternly. “I thought I told you to keep away from those!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, she didn’t, really, but it was implied. Lucas recoiled. “But - but Mama-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts,” she said. “Go and play.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t seen the missing cupcake. She wouldn’t blame him for it. But unless he found out who took the cupcake, he really would get in trouble. He wandered away from the table, groaning, but gasped when he saw a smear of pink icing on one of the presents! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Checking to see that his mom wasn’t looking, he tiptoed over to the stack of presents. There were a variety of shapes in colorful wrapping paper, including one with dinosaurs and fossils that Lucas really liked and one that was Freddy’s-themed to match the party. He saw the one he and his mom brought - metallic blue with little party hats, in the vague yet unique shape of a carded action figure. It was a hero from a bug-themed sentai show, Karate Ninja Beetle Rangers. John liked the show… probably. Lucas liked it, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas finally spotted a piece of candy candle - the flame part, to be exact. He popped it into his mouth. Vanilla, and very tasty. He moved along the gifts and found frosting at the leg of the table, leading towards the pile of shoes that most of the kids had discarded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas made a face. If the cupcake was in a shoe, he might think twice about eating it. But he went over there anyway and gingerly picked up two shoes on the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two yellow eyes looked up at him. He dropped the shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Cupcake!?” Lucas said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little animatronic cupcake hopped up onto the shoe pile. Lucas could hear something like a little spring when he jumped. His little candle flickered in a strange pattern, but Lucas didn’t understand what he was saying. Instead, he carefully picked the cupcake up, and Mr. Cupcake bounced in his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to go back to Chica!” Lucas said, and Mr. Cupcake’s candle flickered wildly. Lucas took that to mean he agreed. He tucked the cupcake against his chest so no one would see him and started to edge his way out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was lucky that, at the adult table, someone said something rather juicy or funny, and the whole table erupted into laughter. He used the moment of distraction to slip out the door and ran down the hallway. He paused as he reached the end of the hallway, looking back. No one followed him. They must really not have seen him! If he had any tokens, he’d be heading to the arcade… but wait, no, he had to get Cupcake back first! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down at the little treat in his hand, rubbing the icing in case his eyes were just playing tricks on him. Cupcake blinked at him and then looked to the side, towards the direction of the main stage. Lucas followed his gaze and realized, indeed, that Chica was on stage without her cupcake, just an empty plate in her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Lucas said with a smile. “I’ll get you back up there!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran towards the stage, dropping to a quick walk when he saw an employee around (Rule #1 - Don’t run!) and keeping Cupcake close against his chest. Soon he was at the stage, but… they were all singing. How was he supposed to get Cupcake up there when they were all moving? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas stepped back, thinking. He’d have to wait until the song was done. So… he could watch and wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, son,” said a voice close behind him. Lucas jumped and turned around, keeping his hands over Cupcake. He felt the animatronic shudder hard in his hands, and he wondered why. The person who spoke was an employee, an older man with a weird scar across his face, from his eyebrow to his lip. He smiled, but only half of his face responded to his. “Make sure not to get too close to the stage, okay? What party are you with? Where’s your, uh… mom?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cupcake shivered harder. Lucas had a bad feeling about this guy, and it wasn’t just the weird scar on his face. “She’s… around,” he said defensively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, if you want a special Freddy plush, I’ve got one. It’s really rare. If you follow me, I can-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want a plush,” Lucas said firmly. The employee put his hands up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, fair enough. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you - to make sure you get back to your mom, of course.” His lopsided grin widened. “Can’t have kiddos wandering around, can we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song on stage ended and the curtain closed. Lucas sort of glared at the man until he turned and walked away. Cupcake was shivering hard, and honestly, Lucas was kind of shaking, too. He’d have to tell his mom about that guy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited until all the employees weren’t looking and climbed onto the side of the stage. Backstage was kind of creepy - there were metal bars and ropes and cardboard backgrounds and decorations everywhere, and it smelled like dust and mold. It was dark, too, but not so dark that Lucas couldn’t see. He went up to Chica carefully and held up Cupcake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Chica, you lost Mr. Cupcake! I found him, tho’, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Chica didn’t move, and Lucas started to become afraid of her silence. Then, slowly, she turned to look at him and held out her plate. Lucas held Cupcake up, and he jumped right back on the plate where he was supposed to be. Chica’s beak opened in a smile, and she held the plate to her cheek. Mr. Cupcake pressed himself against it in a cuddle, both of them looking happy. Then she went back to a stoic pose, giving Lucas a wink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas smiled and climbed down from the stage, quickly returning to the party room just in time for cake and presents. But Lucas already had the best cupcake ever. It was the one he never got to eat!</span>
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